Two Umbrellas Away
by RonsPigwidgeon
Summary: Harry's been living at a Wizarding resort for six months, and he has no intention of leaving. At least, until Draco Malfoy shows up and turns his world upside down.


**Title:** Two Umbrellas Away  
**Author: **rons_pigwidgeon  
**Pairing:** Harry/Draco  
**Beta: **nursedarry  
**Rating:** R/NC17 depending on opinion  
**Summary:** Harry's been living at a Wizarding resort for six months, and he has no intention of leaving. At least, until Draco Malfoy shows up and turns his world upside down.  
**Warnings:** Harry's a bit of a man-whore and there's quite a bit of the F-k word thrown about. I couldn't help it, it's my favorite word ;D  
**A/N:** I started this story in 2005, worked on it in spurts through study abroad, commuting two hours to school, and the two years after graduation with little progress. I wasn't sure how I wanted to end it for the longest time. And then, today, it came to me. It was finished and beta-read within 4 hours. Enjoy!

* * *

Harry Potter was two umbrellas away from letting the next bloke who talked to him bugger him senseless. There looked to be four, maybe five, potentials, if one did not consider the possibility of 'open' couples. There was a short brunette at the bar sipping a Mexican beer and flirting very obviously with the barman. A few tables away sat another brunette, this one quite a bit taller and with hair long enough to put into a pony tail, with a bright Hawaiian shirt and a cheesy gold hoop in one ear. An older gentleman, rather distinguished, with salt and pepper hair, sat a few tables away sipping a vodka tonic. The last, and most interesting in Harry's opinion, looked to be a close relative of the Malfoy family, if not Draco himself. But that was just ridiculous. Draco Malfoy would never be at a gay Wizarding resort in the Bahamas. He was probably married, with a brat or two, living the life of luxury at the Manor. Pity, Malfoy had been a fit little fucker.

Sighing to himself, Harry waved the waiter over for another drink. One umbrella away and he was praising the god who invented whatever fruity drink he was currently sipping because it was delicious. His eyes fell back to the older gentleman, who caught his look and quirked an eyebrow. Harry raised his glass in answer, a lazy smile on his face. The man nodded in return and Harry took it as an invitation. He was seated across from the man within seconds, tiny chills running up and down his spine at the lascivious way the man looked him over.

"Hi."

The gentleman smiled amusedly and nodded at him, "Hello." American. Bugger.

Harry suddenly felt nervous. He'd never been very good at picking up Brits, what do you do with a Yank? At least the whole 'Boy Who Lived' issue wasn't an…issue. Right. "What brings you to the Bahamas?"

"Long-overdue vacation. Yourself?"

"Needed a holiday."

The man nodded and took a sip of his drink. "What's your business?"

Killing Dark Lords. "Don't have one. You?"

"I'm a CEO for Lingota's."

He blinked. "Sorry?"

"Lingota's, it's an American wizarding bank. Haven't heard of it, obviously."

Harry gave him a sheepish smile, "Sorry. I've been a bit…preoccupied with um…the War and all, haven't heard much about American wizards. What does a…CEA do?"

The man laughed, "CEO, I take it you don't have those either?"

"I've no idea. Not much of a business person, to be honest."

"Well, I'm a head of the company. I help run things, negotiate major business transactions, shareholders, that sort of thing."

"Sounds interesting. Don't think I could ever run a company. Of course, I've never actually had a job, so…"

"Really? Never?"

"Nope, my mum and dad died when I was a baby and left me enough money so that I never really have to work."

"You're an orphan?"

"Yeah, but I didn't live in an orphanage, or anything. My aunt and uncle took me in and I lived with them until I turned eleven, found out I was a wizard, and went to Hogwarts."

"NM, then?"

"Sorry?"

"NM, non-magical?"

"You mean Muggleborn? No, my parents were both wizards. My mum was a muggleborn and my aunt and uncle are both muggles, though, and they rather despise wizards so they lied about everything. I didn't even find out how my parents died until I found out I was a wizard." Bugger. Bloody alcohol.

"How did they die?"

Downing the last of his drink, he waved the waiter over for another. "The Killing curse."

The man's eyes grew wide and he leaned on his elbows on the table, all interest. "Really? Who would do something like that?"

"Ever heard of Lord Voldemort?" There was a crash of breaking glass from the table two away from them. They both looked to see the Malfoy-look-a-like wide-eyed at his shattered martini glass, green liquid oozing across the table. A waiter hurried over to clean it up for him and bring another. The blond glanced at Harry before quickly looking back at the now spelled-clean table.

"Insane cult mass-murderer that tried to take over Britain?"

Harry turned back to his table-mate. "Right, him. He wanted them for some reason, no one ever told me why, so he found out their hiding place and killed them."

"That's horrible. So you grew up with muggles then?"

"Yep."

"Interesting…" He took another sip of his drink and Harry glanced over at the table two away again to catch the blond just looking away. Brilliant, a bloody gawker. Hopefully he wouldn't say anything. He looked back at the man, suddenly very keen to leave.

"You wouldn't happen to want to go back to my room, would you?"

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Smiling, they both finished their drinks and left the patio.

\

Harry awoke to tropical twittering, sunshine, a splitting headache, and a warm body next to him. Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach and tried to fall back asleep. After ten minutes of trying to smother himself and his headache with a pillow, he finally hauled himself out of bed and went to down a hangover potion. Afterwards, he crawled back into bed, setting another potion on the nightstand in case Patrick (he'd found out his bed partner's name just as they were entering the room the night before) needed it. Patrick was still sound asleep, but he did roll into Harry's side and bury his nose in Harry's neck. Harry shifted around a bit to get comfortable and tried to go back to sleep. Just as he was drifting off, a voice in his ear brought him back to lucidity. "My head hasn't hurt this much since the corporate Christmas party last year."

"There's a hangover cure on the nightstand." Patrick leaned over him to get it, drank it quickly, and collapsed back onto his chest with a contented sigh.

"Whoever invented that potion should be given a medal."

"I'm sure he was."

"Breakfast?"

"That's going to require movement, isn't it?"

"More than likely."

"Not yet, then. I'd rather stay exactly where I am for the moment." The head on his shoulder nodded and they drifted into quiet. Harry soon found himself asleep again. He woke up alone.

"That's about right," he mumbled to himself, trying not to be disappointed that he'd once more been left to his own devices. He got out of bed once more, showered, and headed down to the beach for the afternoon. Lunch and two Bloody Marys later he was half-asleep on his sun lounger when a shadow passed over his face. He squinted up to see a slim, male silhouette traced by the mid-afternoon sun. "Can I help you?"

"Where's the older chap? He looked to be panting for you." So the wife and kids scenario was out.

"I haven't the slightest. What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Never one to miss a beat, he responded, "Looking for you." He crouched down, smirking over his sunglasses. Trying to hide his annoyance, Harry donned a smirk and dropped his head to the side.

"If you wanted to fuck me, we could have worked something out at school and saved a lot of frequent flier miles."

Draco rolled his eyes, conjured a chair next to Harry's, and relaxed into it. "I'm going to pretend I know what those are."

"Sure you can sit down. I don't mind." Harry's sarcasm was ignored in favor of calling the waiter over to order a drink.

"I like this, help comes to you instead of you going to the help. They've come up with a brilliant plan, if you ask me." Harry closed his eyes and tried to pretend the blond wasn't there. He most certainly was not going to ask. "So, how was the old man?"

Bloody fucking hell…

"All right for a Yank. I'll be sticking to Brits from now on, though. Anonymous and lazy don't go well together for gaining respect, even if you have money."

"So you wanted to be recognized?"

"At least I don't get those looks like I'm just a naive little boy."

"No, just obnoxious hero worship."

"You know me and you're still your usual snarky self."

"You're forgetting a key ingredient. I also don't like you."

"Then, why are you still sitting here?"

"You've already stated that I want to fuck you. What more do you need to know?" Harry only rolled his eyes. There was a moment of silence before Draco turned to smirk into the sunshine. "You're a bugger to find, you know."

Harry sighed and downed his drink. A waiter was by with another within minutes. He downed that one as well and then closed his eyes. "I'm going to take a nap. Are you still going to be here when I wake up?"

"I did come here to bugger you. Can't very well do that if I leave."

"Right, sure. Whatever." Harry fell asleep to the sound of Draco Malfoy humming, accompanied by the waves crashing against the beach.

Two hours later, judging from the position of the sun, he awoke alone. For the second time in one day. Bloody hell, why did he feel even remotely remorseful that he'd been abandoned by the bane of his existence? Harry sat up, rubbing at his scalp lazily. Because Draco Malfoy was gorgeous and probably a fantastic fuck. Sighing to himself, Harry waved a waiter over and ordered an Orange Blossom. Taking a sip, he settled into his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them once more, they immediately settled on the hottest thing Harry had possibly ever seen. Draco was coming out of the ocean, water glistening against his toned chest and stomach, hair sexily disheveled from waves and sea salt. His shorts were hanging low on his slim hips, nearly falling past them, revealing a sliver of blond pubic hair. His tongue flicked out to lick his top lip in a lascivious manner as his eyes met Harry's. He slunk into his chair and leaned over his knees to leer at him. "Like what you see, Potter? It could be yours, you know."

Harry didn't respond right away, still a little dumb-struck and distracted by the trail of blond hairs just above the green shorts. "I…" After a moment he blinked, shook himself, and looked back up to Malfoy's face. "What? Why would I want you? I hate you."

"You might want to tell that to your cock." His eyes flicked briefly down to Harry's swollen shorts before he lay back in his chair and bent his face up into the sun.

"Don't stare at my cock."

Draco snorted, but didn't say anything and soon they dropped into a silence that was not altogether uncomfortable. By the time the sun began to lose some of its heat, Harry's mind was stewing with all kinds of scenarios that would bring Draco to this remote resort village and he could no longer keep his thoughts to himself. "Why are you really here? I doubt you came all this way just to find me."

"You seem to have forgotten that I was a Slytherin. We have a tendency to work rather tenaciously at the things we want, and I happen to want you. Feel privileged."

Harry sat up on his elbows and peered over at the blond. "You cannot be serious. Why would you come all the way across an ocean just for a fuck? Have you slept your way through all the men back home and had to expand your hunting grounds or something?"

Draco snorted incredulously. "As though you have room to talk with the way you flaunted your arse at that bloke last night. I was watching you and you behaved like a perfect slut."

Harry shrugged. "Even so, you didn't answer the question. Why here?"

Draco sighed in exasperation and slinked off his chair and onto Harry's lap, his hands coming up to rest on either side of Harry's shoulders. "Perhaps I need to be more direct; I forgot I was dealing with a clueless imbecile. I want to fuck you, have for rather awhile now, and I've come to this island to do just that. Now, am I going to have to further prove my interest by sucking you off right here in front of two dozen other blokes or are you going to believe me?"

Harry gulped and turned to signal a waiter for another drink. Draco grinned in triumph and wriggled a little on his lap, causing him to groan at the friction. "Stop that, I get it. I don't understand it, but you don't have to molest me in the middle of a public sodding beach. Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath as he attempted to dislodge the blond. Draco was having none of it, though, and firmly clamped his thighs on either side of Harry's. He cupped Harry's chin in his hand and forced him to make eye contact.

"Good. Now listen. You and I are going to be spending the evening in my suite, alone, with absolutely no interruptions, and you are going to fuck me into every available surface between the door and the bed, understood?" Harry's response was a gurgle of consent as he slumped a bit in the chair and Draco grinned again before leaning down to capture his lips. Harry gasped at the flood of heat exploding in his belly at the touch and tugged the blond closer until his chest lay flat against Harry's. The shift in Draco's hips caused their erections to rub together and both groaned into the other's mouth. Harry's hands traveled down Draco's slim waist and slipped below his shorts to squeeze the smooth skin of his arse.

"Oh my god, can you believe some people? How rude! This isn't some porn set where people just have sex willy-nilly. We're in public. Can you believe them, honey?" A bitchy, high-pitched voice spoke in passing, just loud enough for them to hear and pull away. They both looked to see a petite man with pink hair and a glittering gold Speedo walking by, hand in hand with an older, balding man who wasn't paying attention at all to their display or his boyfriend's chatter about it. Draco glared and somehow produced a wand, but Harry grabbed his hand before he could perform the stinging hex he so obviously wanted to send their way.

"Don't." Harry's voice was low and calm, but the look the blond gave him was decidedly not.

"Why not? The little princess deserves a good hex, sticking his nose in where it isn't wanted! I was rather enjoying myself, weren't you?" He shifted his hips for emphasis, but Harry kept hold of his hand.

"They've been here a week and I don't think I've heard him say one nice thing about anyone. Being perpetually unhappy is hex enough."

Draco stared at him, hard, apparently trying to decide whether or not he could still hex the bloke without finding himself shoved onto the sand with a very pissed off savior standing over him. He must have decided not to risk it, though, because a minute later his wand was tucked back where he'd got it from and his fingers were entwined with Harry's instead. "You're coming back to my suite with me tonight, aren't you?"

Harry sighed and pushed his fringe back from his face with his free hand. "I wasn't aware that I had much of a choice."

"You do. You could choose to troll the bar for some meaningless, nameless fuck as you seem to have been doing since you arrived, but I of course will be making every effort to flaunt myself at you if you do. As well as hexing every man who comes within ten feet of you, including the waiter."

"And that's an option, how?"

Draco ignored his annoyed look and moved his mouth down to suck at Harry's pulse-point, humming at the groan he caused. "Mmm, possibly. If you're the sort that gets off on watching others get hexed."

"Which I'm not."

Draco sat up with a self-satisfied smirk and ran his fingers through Harry's messy locks."Then you'll just have to come with me, won't you?"

"I guess I will." Harry was trying not to be affected by Draco's fingers in his hair, but the touch was incredibly relaxing and in combination with his half-erect state, he couldn't help himself but let his fingers roam over Draco's back and sides. The blond let out a pleased sort of noise and leaned back down to continue peppering his neck with kisses.

/

The next morning, Draco hadn't kicked him out, but rather stayed in bed, leaning up on an elbow and watching him sleep. After a string of one-nighters, it was odd to the point of discomfort to stay with someone. And yet, there was the blond minx, a coy smile slowly forming as he reached over to trace the doe tattooed on Harry's right shoulder blade. "I had no idea you had such a passion for woodland creatures. I'd have shown you my animagus form before you left and maybe I wouldn't have had to track you down here."

Harry tried to scowl, but it was too early and half of his face was squished into a pillow. "I don't have a passion for woodland creatures. They represent my parents. My mum's patronus was a doe and my dad's animagus was a stag."

"Is that why they were necking ten minutes ago?" Harry shrugged, unaware of what his moving tattoos got up to, unless they ventured to wander over his shoulder to frolic with the Gryffindor lion on his hip. Draco continued to trace the fine details of the doe, watching it with a glint in his eyes. "Did you know that tattoos are a huge turn-on for me?"

"Is that why you molested me on the beach? I thought you were just being a slag." He smiled dopily, teasing, still half-asleep.

Draco narrowed his eyes and dropped his head to a pillow, Harry's pillow, so that they were nose to nose. Harry went momentarily cross-eyed, but didn't move away. "You don't believe me when I tell you I came all the way from England just to see you, do you?"

"Not really, no. It doesn't make sense for you to make so much fuss over a former enemy."

"Former being the operative word. You realize I never actually hated you, right?" Harry snorted in derision. "I didn't. I wanted you. I've always wanted you, but I was angry and petulant that you had told me no. No one had ever done that before you, you know. It drove me mad," he growled just before capturing Harry's lips. Harry groaned and moved to his side, pulling Draco's body flush with his.

/

Draco was stretched out on his side, the pale strip of skin pulled taught over his ribs by his arm, raised to shield his eyes from the sun. Harry had been staring at it for a good three minutes, unable to look away from the three long, red lines that marred otherwise perfect skin. He had made those lines, scratching his nails down Draco's sides in the heat of passion, tugging him closer and panting terribly dirty things in his ear.

They had been quiet since their morning conversation, but Draco had yet to show any sign of leaving. Harry was beginning to get uncomfortable. He wasn't a second-night kind of bloke, at least he hadn't been since before leaving England, and he wasn't sure what to do with the blond. "Is there a particular reason you're staring at me or am I just too pleasing to look at to pass up?" Draco asked, moving his arm away so that he could peer at Harry.

"Just trying to figure out why you're still here, is all."

"Where else would I be? The best cock on this island is sitting right next to me."

"Yeah, but you've already had me. Why not move on?"

Draco smirked and moved his arm back over his eyes. "Just humor me and don't worry your pretty little head about why." Suspecting that was all he was going to get in way of answer, Harry sighed to himself and stretched out for a kip.

/

A week into their little fling, Draco convinced Harry to join him for a dip, something Harry normally avoided as he had never been a fan of swimming. Waist-high was as far as he would allow, but that seemed to be enough for Draco, who wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and lent against him with a glowing smile. "Lovely out here, isn't it? A nice retreat from the hot sand."

"The sand isn't that hot," Harry replied, fingers kneading at Draco's hips.

"Still, a nice retreat. Like this resort, in a way. A lovely little respite from the pressures of the world. Would you agree?" He was digging for something, Harry knew, but what exactly that was he couldn't guess yet.

"I suppose..."

"Of course, you wouldn't want to spend all your time in the water. Eventually, you would get all wrinkly and no one would recognize you. You need to return to the beach sometime, don't you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure where you're going with this..."

"Well, just like you wouldn't want to stay in the water too long, you wouldn't want to stay at this resort too long either. Eventually, you have to return to your life, right?"

Harry went cold all over and it had nothing to do with the water temperature. "I'm happy here."

"Of course you are, but there's nothing to say you would be unhappy at home, is there? All of your family and friends are there. You even have a home that I am certain is doing nothing but collecting dust. You've been here for six months. Don't you think it's about time you returned home?"

"I don't want to go home. England isn't home anymore. There's too much pain there." Harry looked off into the water and tried to pull away, but Draco, as usual, was having none of it. He pulled Harry close and forced eye contact.

"You are going to spend the rest of your life wandering listlessly from place to place just because you have painful memories that you don't want to work past? Do you have any idea how irrational that is?"

Harry sneered and tried to pull away again, but was unsuccessful. "It isn't any of your business."

Draco narrowed his eyes, suddenly just as angry as Harry was. "Sod off, Potter. It most certainly is my business. You are under the impression that I am here merely to shag you and then leave, as every other man who has slept with you in the last six months, and possibly longer, has already done. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am not. I came here to bring you home and I will most certainly be doing just that. Do not underestimate my will. If I have to put you under iImperius/i, I will get you back to England."

"I can throw off iImperius/i."

He let out a frustrated sigh and dug his fingers into Harry's scalp. "Then I will put you in a body bind, shrink you, and stash you away in my luggage. However it is done, you will be leaving this island with me."

"Why? What do you care whether I ever go back or not?"

"Because I most certainly am not going to live the rest of my life on a resort in the middle of the ocean. I have financial and humanitarian responsibilities that must be seen to. And as I am determined to keep you now that I have you, it is necessary that you return to England with me. We'll sort out your mental demons when we get there. Understood?"

"No, not understood. What are you talking about? You don't have me. We're shagging, but that's it. This isn't a relationship, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes and combed his fingers through damp, spiky, black hair. "Be reasonable, Potter. Yes, we are shagging, but that is not all we do together. Look at us now; we're swimming together. And we sleep together and eat together and sunbathe together. We are together, and if I have anything to do about it, we will continue to be so for the foreseeable future." Harry growled, and Draco growled right back. "Look, Potter, if I don't bring you home, Granger's going to have a veritable ifit/i and I am not eager to cross her when it is not in my interest to do so. So, you are going to come home with me and that's that. Don't try to argue; it will happen whether you want it to or not. Now, would you like to stay in the water and possibly shag or go up to the room and definitely shag?"

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but a hand shoved down his shorts stopped the words from coming out. He groaned instead and leaned against Draco, burying his nose in his tanned, salty skin. He wasn't ready to let the fight go, but when Draco was doing ithat/i to him, it was nearly impossible to think.

/

"The front desk clerk told me there will be a hurricane coming through here in a few days," Draco told him as he walked past him into the room.

Harry scruffed up his hair with one hand, while shutting the door with the other. "Why were you talking to the front desk clerk?" Draco had ranted for a full hour about how he was certain the man was part-giant and that he couldn't understand why a hotel would choose such an unnerving man as the first person to greet their guests. Weren't the desk clerks supposed to be iinviting/i, he had ranted. Personally, Harry liked the man, but of course, he had slept with him.

"You refused to settle your affairs before we leave, so I went down to do it for you. I also had to make arrangements for a shuttle to the portkey center and the portkey itself."

"What do you mean, you settled my affairs for me? What did you do?"

"I informed the clerk that you would be checking out the day after tomorrow. He seemed rather cross about it, though I haven't the faintest idea why. You can't spend that much money on alcohol."

Harry snarled at the blond head, but as its owner was turned away from him, it had little affect. "I didn't give you permission to do that."

"Honestly, Potter, must you be so obstinate? We've discussed this already, on several occasions, and you are coming with me. No arguments. Granger's already set to pick us up at the portkey center in London. You don't want to disappoint Granger, do you?"

"You told Hermione I was coming back?" Harry's stomach dropped down around his feet and he had to fight the light-headed feeling that suddenly came over him. "Why would you do that?"

"As an incentive of course. I am a Slytherin, if you remember. Now, what would you like to do for your final day here? I fancy trying this hang-gliding thing, though I'm not sure I'm comfortable with being airborne and not able to control where I am going. What do you think?" He turned finally, brochure in hand, and Harry was struck dumb once again by how startlingly pale his eyes were. And that was it. He'd fallen and there was no turning back and no point in fighting it. He was going back to England with this man and there was nothing he could say that would stop it from happening, so he quit trying.

"I... already went hang-gliding. 'S'not as good as flying a broom." Draco began to approach him, bringing him more brochures from the small pile he had set on the table. Harry's heart sped up to the point that he thought he might have a heart attack when warm, tan skin finally met his. Draco smiled up at him, studying his face, and he could see that the other man recognized his surrender for what it was. He leaned up and kissed him, fingers combing into his hair and tugging him closer.

"We could just stay in if you wanted," he whispered hoarsely, tugging Harry closer. Harry groaned softly and traced the soft skin of his sides, kissing him again. He felt intoxicated, drunk on this man that he couldn't get enough of. He scratched nails down those sides and clawed closer, backing him up towards the bed. They toppled onto it, brochures sprawling out around them, all thoughts of other activities gone.

/

They arrived at the Port Key Center to a blinding light and a pleasant if vacant voice welcoming them back to London. Harry blinked a few times to dispel the spots in front of his eyes and looked to Draco. The blond tugged on his hand and led him out to the reception area where a woman with bushy brown hair stood waiting. Harry blinked again, disbelieving. Hermione had still looked like a teenager when he left. Now she was a woman. She beamed at him and hurried to pull him into a hug.

"Welcome home, Harry," she whispered in his ear, warm and happy. He met Draco's eyes over mounds of hair and smiled. He was home.


End file.
